


everything else is just theory

by velvetjinx



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Sports, Angst, Blackmail, Bratty Bucky Barnes, Bucky Barnes Has Issues, Football | Soccer, Health Issues, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Minor Character Death, Sam Wilson Is a Good Bro, Scars, Scoliosis, Small Steve Rogers, Surgery, Underage Drug Use, steve Rogers health issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-13 06:34:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28524042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/velvetjinx/pseuds/velvetjinx
Summary: When James Barnes is signed to Shield United soccer team from Hydra, Steve—Shield’s Mascot—has reservations. After all, Barnes is supposed to be an arrogant diva. But all is not as it seems with Barnes, and maybe—just maybe—Steve needs to give the handsome new striker a chance.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 4
Kudos: 80





	everything else is just theory

**Author's Note:**

> This is ENTIRELY based on a piece of art by the extremely talented doomcheese. You can find the art [right here on Instagram!](https://www.instagram.com/p/CJgNASpFtwg/?igshid=1ibn57un1cp4m)
> 
> Thank you for letting me take inspiration from your amazing art!!! ❤️
> 
> Title from a quote by Josef “Sepp” Herberger: “The ball is round, the game lasts ninety minutes, and everything else is just theory.”

“Did you hear?”

“Hear what?” Steve asked, voice muffled as he pulled the large Stevie Shield costume over his head. He loved being a soccer mascot but the costume was boiling during the summer. 

Sam grinned at him, and Steve smoothed down his hair self-consciously. “Fury is looking to sign James Barnes from Hydra.”

“Barnes?” Steve snorted as he raised an eyebrow. “Do you think our pitch is big enough to contain his ego?”

Sam’s laugh was gratifying. “You gotta admit, he is good.”

“Yeah, maybe. But he comes across as a guy whose brains—his entire personality, actually—are located in his feet.”

“You really don’t like him, huh?” Sam shook his head with a smile. “He’s not really a bad guy. Just kind of a diva. I knew him way back when.”

“You did?”

“We went to the same soccer camp when we were teenagers.” Sam’s expression softened nostalgically. “He was amazing even then, but he was different. Of course that was before…”

Sam frowned and Steve lowered his eyes. Everyone knew about the tragedy of James Barnes, star soccer player, taking six months out of his first year because his younger sister, Katie, had died of a drug overdose at 16. Steve remembered the photographs of Barnes standing at the graveside, posture stiff, his arm around Becca, the youngest of the three siblings. 

He’d only been nineteen. 

“Well, I guess we’ll see how he fits into Shield United if the transfer goes through,” was all Steve said. 

***

When he got home that evening he decided to watch some clips of Barnes online, to get a feel for what he was actually like if he did join the team. Really, he only knew Barnes by reputation—and the highlights reel on the soccer TV shows. 

He found a ‘best of’ video and hit play, wincing as the sound blared out of his phone’s speakers. He quickly turned down the volume, watching as Barnes scored goal after goal. There were occasional clips of him arguing with the referee—as he had a habit of doing—including one where he ended up being given a red card. The ref was holding up the card while Barnes scoffed, rolled his eyes, and dismissively waved his hand. Steve noticed that his left arm was covered in a sleeve, and wondered why. 

“You’ll listen to me, boy,” the ref was yelling. “You’ll go nowhere with that attitude.”

Barnes clearly rolled his eyes. “I’m James Barnes,” he said with a snort. “Who the fuck are you?”

He’d been given a two game ban for that, and gone on to score a hat trick against Chicago as soon as he was back on the pitch. Steve realized that he wore the sleeve in every clip. _Probably a style thing_ , Steve thought to himself. 

Steve frowned as the video ended. Barnes was an amazing striker, no doubt. But he was a bratty jerk too, and Steve wasn’t convinced they needed someone like him on the team.

Shield and Hydra were the two biggest men’s soccer teams in New York, and Steve knew which team he’d rather be the mascot for. Hydra were well known for their dodgy practices and bad sportsmanship. But they were good, especially with Barnes on the team. Maybe it was worth signing their best player to take them down a peg or two. 

***

The transfer went through quickly and easily—a little too quickly and easily. Steve would have thought that Hydra would have fought for their star player, but they seemed happy to let him go. _Maybe they’re sick of his diva bullshit_ , Steve thought to himself as he arrived at Shield’s home stadium, the Triskelion. _That’s just swell. Now we have to deal with it_. 

He walked into the changing room, greeting the various team members as he saw them. As they chatted, someone cleared their throat loudly behind where Steve was standing catching up with Clint Barton, their other striker. He turned to see Fury standing next to a bored looking Barnes.

“Everyone,” Fury said, “this is James Barnes, our new team member. Everyone, this is Barnes. Be nice.”

With that, Fury swept out of the changing rooms, leaving Barnes standing looking a little surprised. Sam was the first one up, holding out his hand for Barnes to shake. 

“Barnes, good to see you again. Don’t know if you remember me, but…”

A small but genuine smile appeared on Barnes’s lips. “Sam Wilson. Good to see you again, man.”

Sam took Barnes around, introducing him to all the other players. When they reached Steve, Sam grinned. “And this is Steve Rogers, our mascot. He’s our lucky charm.”

Steve nodded, a little stiffly. “Barnes.”

Barnes didn’t even try to hide his smirk. “Rogers. Some lucky charm. How long has it been since you guys have won the league?”

Steve was ready to knock the guy out, but Sam shot him a warning look. “Yeah, it’s been a couple of years. But we’ve won every game that Steve’s been at, so I’d say that’s pretty good going.”

Barnes raised an eyebrow. “You don’t go to every game? I thought that was the point of a mascot.”

Steve’s terrible health was absolutely none of this puffed up dickhead’s business, so instead of answering he just gave Barnes a dismissive look and turned his back. A couple of the other guys—Thor and Bruce—looked disgusted at Barnes’s comments, and froze him out when they were introduced. 

Barnes seemed to realize he’d put his foot in his mouth, but it was too late for him to make amends as it was time for them to change and warm up. Steve simply ignored Barnes as he changed and pulled on his mascot outfit. As they were about to walk out on the pitch, Barnes gave him a nervous look. 

“Uh, Rogers, about earlier…”

Steve didn’t give him a chance to finish, instead turning his back on Barnes and toward Sam, giving him a good luck fist bump. 

They all walked onto the pitch, and Steve grinned to himself under his costume. 

Game time. 

***

The annoying thing was, Barnes really was a good player. Spectacular, if Steve was honest. Shield was generally a talented team, but Barnes could work magic, especially when it came to his skill at taking corners. 

Didn’t mean he wasn’t an asshole, though. 

Barnes had managed to score five goals during practice and, although many of the players were still obviously angry with him for his comments to Steve, they were all grudgingly congratulating him for a blinder of a practice. 

Steve was putting his costume in the laundry when he sensed rather than heard someone behind him. He turned to see Barnes standing, the bun in his hair half falling out, and his expression sheepish. 

“Uh, hey, Rogers. I just wanted to say…”

“Sorry, Barnes. I gotta go shower,” Steve said shortly, cutting him off. He didn’t need Barnes’s half assed apology. He swept past Barnes toward the showers, not looking back. 

Fuck that guy. 

***

One thing that Steve did notice was that for every training, and every game, Barnes wore the sleeve on his left arm. He always went into the showers when they were nearly empty too, and although Steve was curious about why, he wasn’t sure if he cared enough to find out. Barnes had tried to apologize a couple more times since that first practice, but Steve had just shut him down each time. 

Eventually, Barnes had given up. 

The rest of the team tolerated Barnes—all except Sam, who seemed determined to give Barnes more of a chance. Sometimes Steve thought he saw something behind the bravado of Barnes’s persona, but it was always gone a second later. 

Still, Steve wondered. 

As always, Steve’s various health issues stopped him from attending several practices and games. They had a substitute mascot—a guy called Logan—who never minded stepping in for Steve when needed. Steve hated his frail body, but knew it couldn’t be helped. 

Didn’t mean he had to like it. 

Barnes had been with the team for three months now; they were first in the league, with Hydra hot on their heels. Steve had missed the last two games and all practices in between due to some time spent in hospital for some new experimental therapy for his scoliosis, and he had to head back in for another two weeks. Most of the team had been to visit him—although not Barnes. Steve didn’t even know if Barnes knew that he’d been in hospital. He told himself that he didn’t care. 

Because, okay, the thing was that Steve, in the depths of his gay little heart, could not deny that Barnes was unbelievably hot. An absolute dick, yes, but also ridiculously attractive. And if Steve hadn’t had such a competency kink he might have been able to ignore that, but he did, and Barnes was pretty much the best player in the whole of the USA. 

Damn him. 

But the pair simply ignored each other when they could, and spoke very little when they couldn’t. Steve could have blamed his bad start, but there was also his own stubbornness which had played a part. 

Anyway, what was done was done and could not be undone. Still, Steve couldn’t help but have some regrets. 

***

The day before he was due back in hospital, Steve went to the Triskelion grounds to drop off a good luck present for Sam. Practice was long over, and he figured he could get in and out without having to see anyone. He was pretty nervous about his upcoming hospital stay, and really didn’t want to have to answer any questions about it. 

He walked into the changing room, lips pursed in a precursor to a cheerful whistle, but the sound died before it could escape. Barnes was sitting on one of the benches alone, naked except for a towel around his waist, his face buried in his hands. And his left arm…

His left arm was covered in huge, raised scars. 

Before Steve could leave again, Barnes looked up at him with wide, red, swollen eyes. 

“Uh, shit, sorry,” Steve mumbled. 

Barnes rubbed his nose with his hand and shrugged. “What are you doing here?” he asked hoarsely. 

“I, uh, I came to drop something off for Sam.”

“Oh.”

He looked so miserable that something in Steve melted. “Are you okay?”

Barnes let out a hoarse laugh. “Sure, yeah, why not.”

“Really.” It wasn’t a question, and Barnes took a deep, shaky breath. 

“There’s nothing you can do to help, if that’s what you’re asking.” Barnes laughed again, but this time it rang completely hollow. “Nothing anyone can do.”

“How do you know?” Steve asked, approaching Barnes cautiously, as one would approach a spooked animal. “Maybe I can think of a way to help.”

Barnes looked up at him, and the pain in his eyes nearly took Steve’s breath away. 

“I need to talk to Fury, but he’ll fire me. And I wouldn’t argue with him.”

Steve couldn’t help his expression of surprise. “Barnes, what the hell are you talking about? You’ve won every game you’ve played for us. That’s not to say we wouldn’t have won without you, but not by these margins. Why the hell would Fury fire you?”

Sighing heavily, Barnes looked at his hands. “Because our next game is with Hydra, and I have to throw the match.”

“What?” Steve couldn’t understand what Barnes meant. “What do you mean?”

“I mean that Hydra’s manager Zola knows certain things about my past, and if I don’t sabotage Shield so that Hydra wins the league, he’s gonna make it all public.”

Steve sat heavily on the bench next to Barnes. “Shit.”

“Yeah.”

Barnes shifted slightly, his long wet hair brushing against Steve’s shoulder, and Steve was suddenly hyper aware of how much Barnes _wasn’t_ wearing. _Get a grip, Steve_ , he told himself. _Barnes needs your help right now. He doesn’t need you drooling over him_. 

“Do you… I mean, do you maybe wanna talk about the stuff Zola knows?”

Frowning, Barnes rubbed a hand over his eyes. “I don’t know if you know what happened to my sister Katie?”

Steve nodded. “Yeah, I know.”

“When she died, I took time off. I wasn’t coping; we’d always been close. I got really depressed—I started self-harming, and one day I cut a little deeper…” Barnes took a shaky breath. “My kid sister Becca found me, nearly unconscious from blood loss. They patched me up, but Zola somehow managed to hush it all up. He knew that no other team would even look at me if they knew I was a headcase.”

Steve glared at him, angry on his behalf but also angry at him. “What the hell, Barnes? You don’t think people with mental health issues deserve to be treated like regular human beings?”

Barnes blushed. “Well, they aren’t, usually.”

“Bullshit,” Steve retorted. “There’s a fuckton of stigma, sure, but there’s no way Fury would kick you off the team just because you were depressed a few years ago about your sister dying. Is that why you stayed with those assholes at Hydra for so long?”

Barnes nodded slowly.

Steve snorted. “Come on. Get dressed. I’m calling Fury, and you’re going to tell him everything you just told me. No, shut up,” he added, seeing that Barnes was ready to argue. “He’ll chew you out, but he won’t kick you off the team. Trust me.”

Barnes screwed up his face, then nodded. “Fine.”

***

Fury’s face stayed impassive as Barnes confessed the whole story to him, then he huffed out a long breath. 

“So that was why we got you without a fight.”

Barnes nodded miserably. 

“Well.” Fury’s eyes narrowed. “What made you change your mind?”

Barnes shrugged. “It just didn’t feel right,” he said, but Steve could tell he was lying—or, at least, not telling the whole truth. 

“Hmm.” Fury could obviously see through him as well, although surprisingly he didn’t call Barnes on it. “So how should we proceed?”

Barnes’s eyes widened. “You’re asking me?”

“Mhm.”

Barnes rubbed a hand over his face. “Honestly? I just wanna get some kind of revenge on those bastards.”

Fury nodded. “Alright. Let’s call my friend Tony. He runs Stark Soccer magazine—we can set up an interview there. You can tell them as much or as little as you’re comfortable with, then we’ll go out in two weeks and kick Hydra’s ass. What do you say?”

Barnes grinned. 

***

The interview, when it was published, immediately went viral, with multiple news outlets talking about Barnes’s ‘bravery’ in his no-holds-barred interview. He had laid it all out: his struggles with his mental ill health, his self-harming, his suicide attempt. Everything. 

“Why did you decide to talk about this now?” the journalist, Pepper Potts, had asked. 

“Because I’m now in an environment where I feel supported enough to talk about these things,” Barnes had replied. The implications were clear, and Steve couldn’t help but laugh from his hospital bed, where he was recovering. Hydra’s reputation would be even more in the mud than it had been. The number of bright young kids wanting to sign with them would plummet. It really was perfect revenge. 

Sam told him when he visited that when Barnes had come into the changing room for their first practice after the interview was published, the entire team had been way warmer to him. Steve was glad. He still thought Barnes was a diva, but he didn’t really think he was that much of an asshole. 

He laid down his phone, sighing. The experimental therapy had gone well, but his whole body ached. Maybe if he just took a little nap…

There was a knock at his door, and Steve frowned. “Come in!” he called. The club was paying for a lot of the treatment, so he could afford his own room. 

Barnes sidled in, looking nervous. “Uh, hey, Rogers.”

“Hey, Barnes,” Steve said in surprise. “How did you…?”

“Sam told me you were here. I hope you don’t mind.” Barnes was twisting his fingers nervously, like he expected Steve to yell at him for his presumption. And as tempted as Steve might have been on another day, he was too tired right then to even pretend indignance. 

“No, it’s fine. What’s up?”

Barnes didn’t answer, instead sitting gingerly on the edge of the chair next to Steve’s bed. “I, uh. How’s everything going?”

Steve shrugged, wincing at the pain which shot through him at the simple movement. “It’s gone okay. The treatment seems to have worked, so I might be able to avoid the full invasive surgery.”

Barnes nodded. “So, uh. This is why you miss so many games?”

Steve felt himself tense defensively, and forced himself to relax. “Yeah.”

“I’m… I’m really sorry about what I said when we first met,” Barnes said in a rush. “It was shitty of me, and I’m so sorry, especially after you helped me with Fury and everything. I’ve been wanting to apologize pretty much since I said it, but…” He gave a short laugh. “You just brushed me off every time. I kinda gave up after a while.”

Steve winced. “Yeah, sorry. I was kinda mad at you, though. It was a dickish thing to say.”

“It was.” Barnes looked up at him, blue-gray eyes wide and guileless. “So, uh. Maybe we could start over?”

Staring into those beautiful eyes, Steve knew he couldn’t refuse. “Yeah, okay,” he agreed, smiling. 

“Awesome.” Barnes’s smile was blinding. “I’d shake your hand but I get the feeling that would hurt.”

“And you’d be right,” Steve said dryly. 

“Anyway, it’s nice to meet you… Steve.”

“You too, uh, James.”

He winced. “Call me Bucky, please? James is my professional name—or what my mom calls me when I’m in trouble. People close to me call me Bucky.”

Steve’s expression softened. “Yeah, sure, Bucky.” He paused. “Can I ask why…?”

Bucky’s smile tightened slightly. “My full name is James Buchanan Barnes. My… Katie fixated on my middle name when she was learning to talk and always called me Bucky. It stuck.”

Steve wanted nothing more than to reach out and squeeze Bucky’s arm, but he knew how much pain that would put him in. Instead, he held Bucky’s gaze empathetically. “Bucky it is.”

Bucky nodded shortly. “So, uh, does your mom call you Steven when you’re in trouble, or…?”

Steve swallowed hard. “Uh, my mom passed. When I was eighteen. It wouldn’t have been long after your sister… She, uh. She had co-morbid pneumonia and TB, which with her asthma wasn’t good. She was in hospital three days before she passed in her sleep.”

“God, Steve.” Bucky had gone pale. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”

“It’s okay.” Steve took a deep, steadying breath. “I miss her, but Sam’s family were amazing. It was him who convinced me to get the mascot job.”

“I’m glad he did,” Bucky said, smiling shyly at Steve, and Steve’s heart skipped a beat. 

_Well, shit_. 

***

By the time Steve had recovered, some two months later, he and Bucky were practically best friends. Bucky spent almost as much time at Steve and Sam’s apartment as they did, eating their food and watching their Netflix and sleeping on their sofa. He had his own place—and damn nice it was too, if the photos Bucky showed Steve were anything to go by—but he seemed to prefer hanging out with Steve and Sam. 

When Steve asked him about this, he shrugged. 

“My apartment is great, but it’s kinda big and lonely, you know?” he said. “It’s nicer here. I like the company.”

Steve certainly wasn’t complaining. The better friends he became with Bucky, the more he allowed himself to see the positive sides to him, and the deeper he felt his crush getting. So Bucky was more than welcome to spend as much time with them as he wanted, as far as Steve was concerned. 

On one of the rare occasions Bucky was not installed on their sofa, Sam sat down next to Steve with a sigh. 

“Man, you have got to put Bucky out of his misery.”

Steve eyed Sam questioningly. “What do you mean?”

“I _mean_ that the poor guy is smitten with you. It’s so obvious. And you obviously like him too—don’t try to deny it. I know you too well.”

Steve blushed. “Yeah, I do. But really? He’s into me?”

“My god, you’re so oblivious,” Sam groaned.

***

The following day, after practice, Bucky came back to theirs. Steve still wasn’t quite strong enough to be mascot again yet, but he enjoyed watching the team practice. Well. He certainly enjoyed watching _Bucky_ on the field. 

Sam excused himself as soon as they got in, citing the need to call his mom, but he gave Steve a meaningful look behind Bucky’s back as he left the room. 

“So, uh.” Steve cleared his throat. “That was a good practice today.”

Bucky nodded. “Yeah, it was. We were way more cohesive today than we’ve been for a couple of days, so it was good to get back into the swing of things.”

“Yeah. So.” Steve frowned. He wasn’t a coward. He could do this. “Uh, I was wondering if you maybe wanted to go out sometime? Just the two of us, maybe?”

Bucky turned sharply toward him, eyes wide. “You mean, like, a date?”

Steve fought the urge to squirm. “Yeah. Like a date.”

Bucky’s expression softened, and he smiled shyly. “Yeah. I’d… I’d really like that, Steve.”

“You would?”

“Well, yeah.” Bucky laughed quietly. “I’ve been in lo… I mean, I’ve had a thing for you for a long time. You really never noticed?”

“Apparently in not the most observant guy,” Steve replied, grinning. 

Bucky shuffled closer to him on the sofa, cupping Steve’s cheek gently in his palm. “If you don’t want me to kiss you, now would be the time to tell me.”

Steve’s response was to smirk, closing the gap between them and pressing their lips together. 

Bucky tasted of the caramel latte he’d drunk on the way back to the apartment, and Steve couldn’t get enough. He shifted, swinging a leg over Bucky’s lap and straddling him, and Bucky grinned against his lips. 

“Pretty sure you used to think I was an arrogant jerk,” Bucky said, and Steve kissed him again. 

“Less of the ‘used to’,” Steve retorted with a laugh. 

“Well, you’re a stubborn punk, so I guess we’re pretty well matched.”

Steve nuzzled Bucky’s cheek before capturing his lips in a deep kiss. “Yeah. I guess we are.”


End file.
